


Tumblr Prompts and shorts

by theonlytraveler



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Fingering, Analingus, M/M, Smut, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonlytraveler/pseuds/theonlytraveler
Summary: A collection of prompts and short fics I've written that are only on my tumblr acct.  Ratings vary (probably mostly smut).  All Reddie Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak.





	1. Chapter 1

Richie has been a presence in Eddie’s life much longer than he can even remember.  Maybe as far back as preschool, when they couldn’t tie their shoes or brush their teeth, or speak clearly enough to express their childhood wonders. It’s a friendship first, even though things grew and changed between them somewhere along the way. They’ve been romantically involved since they were both ignorant little sophomores, stumbling their way through the halls of Derry High, holding on to each other as they tried to figure themselves out.  

They have been together as friends and lovers long enough to have done many things together.  Road trips with Richie’s family and funerals with Eddie’s, suspensions for fighting together, doctor visits and high school graduation, first kisses to making love- they’ve done it all.  _Together_.

And now they are  _so_  close to being through with college, and then they will  _finally_ be able to find a more suitable place to live.  The apartment they call home is rundown and in an unsafe part of town, but it is  _theirs_ , and they have built a life together there, regardless of the struggles. From Eddie coming out to Richie being threatened when an ex found out he is bi. From Eddie’s mom trying to tear them apart to Richie’s parents taking Eddie in when she kicked him out. From Richie’s mom’s death to Eddie telling his own to fuck off for good - they are all they have. They are all they need.

It’s a Tuesday night like any other.   Their bedroom is lit by a single lamp sitting on the bedside table, and it casts a dim glow over the bed, where Eddie is underneath Richie, sighing into Richie’s mouth as Richie kisses him full and slow, lips dragging wetly down and over the line of his jaw.  Eddie clutches at Richie’s shoulders, sighing as Richie moves lower and kisses down the side of his neck, dragging his lips over the warm, salty skin there, teeth nipping and leaving subtle marks that Eddie will steal little glances at each time he spots a mirror.

It’s a sex night. Eddie can feel it in the way Richie’s hands won’t keep still, in the way Richie ruts their hips together slowly, agonizingly, teasing the heat growing between Eddie’s thighs and pooling low in his abdomen. A sharp pang of  _need_  shoots through him, right up his spine, and Eddie tips his head back as Richie sucks at a patch of skin right below his ear, drawing a breathless little moan from his parted lips.

They have their usual moves down; Eddie with his legs wrapped around Richie’s lower back as Richie fucks into him, hands planted on the bed for leverage; Eddie in Richie’s lap, sometimes facing away, Richie gripping his hips hard and rolling their bodies together as they kiss messily.  Sometimes they switch it up, and Eddie will pull Richie’s legs over his hips, bear down against him and slide inside his body with a grunt that comes from deep in his chest.  He likes it more than he ever thought he would, loves the control and the way Richie stares up at him with hooded eyes, the blue nearly drowned out by the way they darken.  He loves how Richie pants against his neck and clenches his fingers where they usually land high on Eddie’s back.   But tonight is different. Tonight, Eddie is going to do something new and terrifying.

As Richie kisses his way down Eddie’s chest, pushes Eddie’s shirt up and sucks a mark against his soft stomach, Eddie decides now is a good time to go for it.  He’s been doing a lot of thinking lately, about how wonderful Richie is to him, how loved and worshiped he’s always felt with him.  He has been thinking of all the ways Richie makes him feel indescribably good, makes him shake and beg- and yeah, it is a combined effort when they have sex, but there are a lot of times Richie focuses solely on Eddie’s body, and he does it for such a long time that Eddie sometimes wonders how Richie gets off at all.  It doesn’t seem fair that Richie always blows Eddie’s mind, when all Eddie does is stick to the same things- hand jobs, blow jobs, grinding- Richie deserves much more than that.  Eddie wants to give it to him.  

Eddie sits up and pulls Richie back to him, his hands falling to Richie’s thighs as Richie straddles him gently and presses their lips together.  “I want to do something,” he says, swallowing thickly when Richie’s mouth curls up at the corner, his eyes alight as he pulls his glasses off and tosses them off the side of the bed carelessly.  

“Do what?”  Richie asks, and Eddie can’t think too hard on this or he’ll lose his nerve.  So he moves in, brings their lips together in a hard, hungry lock that gives him the leverage he needs to turn and shove Richie down on his back.  And of course Richie waggles his brows, smiling as Eddie rolls his eyes and lowers his body, letting his legs fall open as he presses himself against Richie’s rapidly thickening cock.  He doesn’t answer him, doesn’t hesitate as he attacks Richie’s lips and moves his hands down, grasps Richie’s belt and shakily undoes the buckle.  

Richie lets out a husky chuckle and catches Eddie’s lip with his teeth, biting down gently as Eddie gasps and starts to shove Richie’s jeans and briefs down his hips. He follows them, scooting down and pushing Richie’s shirt up and bunching it over his chest.  But he doesn’t stop there- he pulls all of Richie’s clothes off, leaves them in a pile on the floor at the end of the bed, and allows himself a moment to take in the sight that is Richie Tozier completely bare. His pale, freckled skin, the hair that grows over his chest and down, down into the thickness between his legs. Richie has always been beautiful, and Eddie never fails to wonder how he’s grown even more attractive as they have gotten older.

Eddie doesn’t look for too long, because he can already feel the anxious flutter starting in his chest, descending into the pit of his stomach and threatening to trip him up and make him falter.  So he pulls his shirt up and over his head and drops it off the bed, leaving his shorts on as he takes Richie’s calves in his hands and spreads his legs open.  

Maybe it would be easier to do this with Richie on his stomach, but he wants to be able to see him, wants to know he can lift his head and watch him if he wants to- so he gets on his knees at the end of the bed, watching Richie watch him with lust blown eyes and a curious frown, and he presses Richie’s legs up and away, exposing him completely.  

“Eds?”  Richie asks, voice a little strained.  “What’re you…?”

Eddie looks up at him with a smile.  “I’m…” he pauses, wrinkling his nose for a moment as he considers how to word this.  It sounds vulgar either way, he decides.  “I’m… going to eat you out.”  

Richie eyes get wide as he tries to push himself up on his elbows, but Eddie places his hand on Richie’s chest to stop him.  It doesn’t stop him from speaking.  “Wait- you said you’d never do that.  You said it grosses you out.”  

It’s true- Eddie’s mentioned it more than once.  He’s never understood how Richie can willingly put his mouth and face somewhere so disgusting, but he’s been…  _curious_.  It feels absolutely  _amazing_ when Richie does it to him _,_ and he wants Richie to experience the same mind-melting pleasure.  

“I know, but,” he starts, caressing Richie’s bare thigh, eyes straying to where Richie’s cock is hard and curved up against his lower stomach.  “I want to do this for you.  Unless you don’t want me to…?”  

Richie starts nodding immediately.  “Yeah, yeah I want you to.  Just promise me you’ll stop if you get grossed out.  It’s not for everyone.”  

Eddie nods and smiles, his nerves soothed considerably.  “Promise.” 

“And I’m clean.  I uh,” Richie blushes beautifully, licking his lips as he grins and drops his head back against the pillows with an embarrassed laugh.  “I was actually hoping you’d fuck me tonight, so I… took care of it all.”  

Those words light a new fire in Eddie’s skin, and he surges up and crushes their mouths together.  It’s a wet, quick, messy kiss, and Richie’s fingers go straight to Eddie’s hair and give it a gentle pull that makes Eddie hiss and roll his hips down.  He takes hold of Richie’s sweaty curls with both hands, tugs his head back to get access to his throat, smirking when Richie’s breath hitches and he lifts his hips.

Eddie returns to his previous position, and this time Richie opens up for him, bending his knees and pulling his legs back and up.  They are so long that his feet are planted on the mattress, but Eddie has enough room, so he settles down on his stomach and goes for Richie’s cock first.  He’s getting nervous again, so he tries to remember how he felt about blowjobs before he performed his first one.  God, he thought it was the grossest thing in the world, and he couldn’t understand why Richie wanted to do it to him all the time.  But then he came to a point where he was dying with curiosity, and much like now, he decided to just give it a try.  

Richie hums as Eddie gets his mouth around the tip, starting with his tongue and dragging it up the underside, then sinking down along the length.  Eddie is surprisingly good at this, and he  _likes_ it.  Richie is rarely quiet at any time, but when they are intimate he doesn’t make a lot of noise, not the way Eddie does.  He’s a heavy breather, with little grunts and groans thrown in when they are doing something that is new or especially hot.  The noisiest he gets is when Eddie tops, but even then it’s mostly dirty talk and praise, littered with a few moans and choked off breath.  

Eddie has a good rhythm going, his head moving subtly as his tongue does most of the work, circling and curling around the head in smooth, slow movements.  He pulls off, closes his fingers around the hot, sticky flesh, and lets his eyes fall to where he’s about to put his mouth.  It’s skin- just like the rest of Richie’s skin.  And Richie is very thorough when he cleans and prepares himself.  There’s nothing to be nervous about. 

Eddie glances up at Richie, sees that Richie’s eyes are fixed on him, a little worriedly- fuck it.  He’s going to just do it.  

Lowering himself on his chest, he moves in and breathes against the wrinkled skin, licking his lips as he gets closer.  He closes his eyes, lowers his head a fraction, and runs his tongue right across the rim.  Richie shudders and his thighs tense, and Eddie does it again, slower, letting the top of his tongue drag along the edge, and circle up and around.  It tastes like  _skin_.  Like licking over Richie’s hip bone, or his neck- it’s nothing like he was worried about.  

Opening his eyes, Eddie dives in, uncertain how to go about this, where to touch and what to avoid.  He tries to recall how Richie does this to him, what feels best- but it all feels great, if he’s honest.  He sucks a kiss against Richie’s asscheek, moving in and spreading him wider, using his fingers to pull his cheeks farther apart and get closer.  He flattens his tongue against him, drags it up, then down, and that’s when he hears Richie moan-  _loud_ \- and feels Richie’s fingers dig into his hair and grip the strands.  

“… _fuck, Eddie_ …” Richie’s voice is rough and strained, deep and needy.  The sound of it hits Eddie low in his stomach, heat pulsing between his legs as he presses his hips down against the mattress.  “… _oh my god… oh fuck_ …”  

Fuck.  Eddie dives back in, his heart thumping wildly, and he gets his mouth around Richie’s hole and gently presses his tongue in,  _in_ , groaning when Richie lets out a beautiful gasp and a breathless moan.  

Richie’s fingers tighten against his scalp, nails scratching lightly as he presses his hips down and against Eddie’s mouth.  “ _Fu-uh-uhck, Eddie.  Please… please_ …”  And goddamn, Richie never begs, never makes these kind of sounds-

“Eddie, please.   _Please_ …” 

And then it’s like a switch gets flipped in Eddie’s body.  

He slides one arm under Richie’s thigh, holds Richie still as he lets loose and starts to really lick him open.  He thrusts his tongue in, out, in, slow at first, then faster, trying to ignore how fucking hard he is, and how Richie is whining and begging above him, his voice going higher and his body tensing, legs trembling on either side of Eddie’s shoulders.  Fucking shit- Richie sounds  _incredible_.  Why didn’t he do this sooner?  Fuck, he’d do  _anything_ if Richie would keep making these amazing sounds.  His cock is aching, straining against the fabric of his shorts, but he keeps on going, coming up for a few breaths before he goes back in.  

“ _Fuck me, Eds_ ,” Richie gasps out, and Eddie feels it all through his skin, feels his cock throb in response.  “Just fuck me, oh my  _god_.”  

Eddie goes for the bedside table and pulls open the drawer, grabs the half-empty bottle of lube and a condom, and gets right back to where he was.  His chin is slick with his own spit but he doesn’t even care.  He goes in again, sucks quick little kisses along the rim as he pops the bottle open.  

Richie is panting harshly, his chest rising and falling as Eddie gets his fingers covered and presses one in to the first knuckle.  It usually takes longer to get Richie prepped, but he can’t say it isn’t enjoyable.  This time, he uses his mouth to help, thrusts his finger in slow, slow- past the second knuckle and lets his tongue join.  

Richie is a moaning, writhing mess.  His thighs are shaking, his cock is leaking smearing a clear trail over his lower stomach, and Eddie is loving this.  He can’t take his eyes off the flush coating Richie’s chest, the color high in his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back.  Eddie gets another finger in, lowers his mouth again to lick and suck the sensitive skin.  

Soon Eddie has two fingers working in and out of him, and he gets to his knees so he can watch Richie lose it.  His wrist is getting sore, but he hits Richie’s sweet spot and gets a loud, throaty groan for it, so he doesn’t stop, fucking his fingers in and out, faster, harder, dropping his forehead against Richie’s knee as Richie’s back arches and his hips roll down.  Jesus- Richie is fucking himself back on Eddie’s fingers, letting out these high, incredible sounds, his hands clenching the sheets so tight Eddie is sure he’s going to rip them.  

“E-Eddie, oh my god-” Richie’s whole body tenses, and Eddie goes faster, curls his fingers up and against the little bundle of nerves and strokes the pads against it relentlessly.  Richie comes with a cry, his body shaking as his cock twitches and spills across his stomach.  

And Eddie can’t wait.  Doesn’t want to have to take time to put the condom on and slide inside- so he shoves his shorts down and off his legs, closes his fingers around himself, and fucks into the tight hold of his fist.  It doesn’t take more than a few thrusts before he moans and collapses beside Richie, coming right on the bed and leaving the worst wet spot- he doesn’t even care.  

As they catch their breath Eddie reaches out, tugs Richie close to him, falls onto his back so Richie can settle his head on Eddie’s chest.  “Holy fuck,” is the first thing out of Richie’s mouth as he lifts a shaky hand and brushes Eddie’s hair back. “That was fucking  _amazing_.”  

Eddie smiles, winces at the dampness under his ass.  “Yeah… I like you like this.”  

Richie raises a brow and pushes his hair out of his face, kisses over Eddie’s chest as he murmurs, “Like what?”  

Eddie hums and strokes his palms down Richie’s back, dragging his nails down his spine and earning an adorable little shiver.  Why is Richie so cute right now?  “I don’t know… soft, I guess.”  

“Soft?”  

Eddie nods, then pulls Richie up and closer to him.  “Yeah,” he says, and leans in to press their lips together in a deep, satisfying kiss.  “You’re so soft right now.”  

They fall quiet, breathing together, and Eddie allows himself to drift off, still stroking his hands over Richie’s skin.  Richie chuckles a little, bringing Eddie back into the world again, and he hums in question, barely whispering, “What?” and pulling Richie closer.  

Richie moves up and presses his face into Eddie’s neck, and says, “You taste like me.”  

Eddie groans, pulls a pillow out from under his head, and shoves it over Richie’s face as Richie laughs and tries to push him away.  

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie breaks his arm again

It’s hot up in Eddie’s bedroom, the window open and a tall, white fan blowing cool air across sheets, where Eddie is sprawled out on his back, eyes black and lids heavy as he stares up at Richie. It’s dark out now, and though the night should bring some kind of relief from the heat it hasn’t, and Richie is sweating for a whole list of reasons that have little to do with the temperature and everything to do with his best friend beneath him.

“Come on, Richie,” Eddie whines, his right arm curved in his cast, resting over his chest, and he lifts his hips in a silent plea. “Unless you changed your mind, then-”

“I didn’t,” Richie says, swallowing thickly at the swelling bulge in Eddie’s shorts, his fingers twitching when Eddie moves his left arm down, dragging the heel of his hand over his clothed dick. Richie snatches his hand away, pins it over Eddie’s head, leans down to mouth at the salty skin over Eddie’s jaw. “Don’t. I… I got you.”

Eddie groans when Richie bites down on the flesh under his mouth, and his hips jerk up, grinding into Richie as he gasps out, “Then fucking touch me!”

Richie can’t believe what he’s seeing; Eddie, sweet, innocent, incredible Eddie, losing himself to lust as he begs for Richie- RICHIE- of all people to make him feel good. It’s a fucking dream come true, and it’s taken them all this time, until the summer before they head off to college to get here, and he’s damn glad Eddie broke his arm again (as horrible as it sounds)  or this might have never happened.

“Yeah, okay,” Richie whispers in his ear, and he trails his fingers down, down over Eddie’s stomach, pausing when he reaches the waistband of his shorts, teasing at the bit of skin under the bunched hem of his shirt. “I got you, Eds. It’s gonna feel great…”

And then Richie seals his mouth over Eddie’s as he slips his hand under, under his boxers, sweat damp and hot, and he takes Eddie in his fingers, tightening his grip as Eddie moans and clutches Richie’s shirt with his left hand. Richie kisses him deep, thumbing the wet head and licking into Eddie’s mouth, loosening his hold as he starts a slow rhythm, one he uses on himself when he’s feeling like dragging it out.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss, his head falling back as Richie buries his face in Eddie’s throat, sucking a mark here and there, using his teeth and his tongue, drawing all sorts of interesting sounds from the best friend he’s grown up with, grown the closest to, fallen in love with.

Richie keeps the same slow, teasing pace, sneaking his other hand under Eddie’s shirt and scratching his nails down his sides. Eddie jerks, moaning as he starts to thrust up into Richie’s hold, the hot, soft flesh growing harder when Richie moves away from Eddie’s neck to pant into his ear, “You like that, Eds? You like my hands on you?”

Eddie grunts and turns his head, kissing Richie hard, frustration working its way between their mouths. “Fuck, Rich,” Eddie’s fingers are suddenly there, grasping Richie’s wrist, moving his hand faster. “Faster, please. I can’t, I- I can’t, not like this.”

Richie grins. “Oh, you don’t like this slow stuff, huh?”

Eddie shakes his head, his hair sticking to his forehead. “N-No.”

Richie sits up, settling back on his heels as he pulls Eddie’s shorts right off, tossing them off to the side as he grabs Eddie by the hips and hauls him into his lap. Eddie gasps, his back still on the bed, and Richie chuckles, placing Eddie’s thighs on either side of his waist. He can work around the boxers, and this is much better, and he can see everything this way- from Eddie’s stomach to his chest, to his sweat-slick neck, to his parted lips.  

Richie gets right to it; he pulls the waistband of Eddie’s boxers down, and when he sees Eddie’s cock, curved upwards and red and leaking, he wants it in his mouth, he wants to run his tongue up and down the length- but Eddie hasn’t asked him to do that, so he does the next best thing he can think of. He spits into his palm, which makes Eddie tense for a moment, until Richie wraps his hand around him, and then he melts, and Richie starts really jerking him, squeezing every few strokes, sliding his free hand between his own thighs and squeezing himself, so he doesn’t blow his load in his jeans. No- Eddie first. He wants to see Eddie come. He HAS to see Eddie come- even if he has to wait, or not come at all, it will be worth it.  

Eddie is outright moaning, making all kinds of noise, and it’s a fucking miracle his mom isn’t home, because Richie’s sure the neighbors can probably hear him like this, every gasp and grunt, every “Oh fuck” and “Yes, Rich, y-yes” and “Oh god, oh god- f-fuck”, and damn, Richie’s brain is just mush- he can’t handle this.  Eddie is thrusting up into his hand, his cast cradled against his chest, and his other palm slapping over his mouth, and Eddie bites the heel, but his chest is still heaving and his thighs are twitching, and Richie’s dick is so fucking hard, and he can’t take it, he can’t take it-

“I’m gonna- fuck, don’t stop- Rich, please don’t fucking stop-” Eddie’s hand shoots out, and he grabs Richie’s thigh, fingers digging into his jeans, and the tension all through his body breaks, and Richie watches in fascination as Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a long, low moan, cock twitching in his hand, spilling all over Richie’s arm and even up on his shirt, and, well, he’s only human- Richie tears his jeans open and finishes himself off, falling sideways on the bed and shoving his face into the comforter, humping into his hand as he cries out Eddie’s name, spending himself in his fucking boxers, in his fucking pants- like a fucking teenager.  

It’s quiet, only their harsh breaths cutting through the silence, until Eddie says, “I can’t believe I had to break my arm for you to fucking touch me.  What the fuck?”  

Richie laughs, sitting up and wiping his hand off on his shirt.  “So you broke it on purpose?  I knew it!”  

Eddie snorts and makes a face, sitting up and grabbing his shorts off the floor.  “Yes, I slipped on the rocks and slammed into that boulder on purpose.  It was my master plan.”  

“Sounds like something you’d come up with,” Richie says, and he leans in, kissing Eddie long and slow, pulling away after several minutes with his cheeks burning.  “I love you- you- you know that, right?” 

Eddie smiles, wiping his hands off on his shorts.  “Yeah, idiot.  I know.  I… me, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

Richie takes Eddie’s face in his palms, in the front seat of his run down Nova, and he looks into his eyes, serious in a way Eddie’s only ever seen a handful of times. Eddie’s heart is beating hard; he loves and hates whenever Richie is like this, intense and quiet, soft and terrifying, it makes his throat run dry and all the words disappear from his mind. It’s scary, and wonderful, because he can see how much Richie loves him, how much Richie needs him, and he’s positive that he doesn’t deserve the love of this sweet, gentle boy, who is so loud and obnoxious around everyone else, but saves this affectionate side just for him.

“Eds,” Richie whispers, moving in and speaking against his lips. Eddie’s stomach clenches, and his breath catches. “I love you so fucking much.”

Eddie wants to turn away, but he doesn’t. “Rich,” Eddie murmurs, swallowing his emotions, holding back the tears he feels pricking at his eyes. “I… I…”

“I know,” Richie replies, because he knows Eddie has a hard time saying it, and he knows Eddie has a lot of trouble letting this happen. “It’s okay. I know.”

And Eddie hates this because Richie deserves so much better, he deserves someone who can be open and loving, who can return each embrace without flinching, each touch without thinking, and each kiss with as much fervor. Richie is the only person who can make him feel like this in this fucked up, shitty little town, and it’s a greater gift than anything anyone has ever given him. But Eddie is afraid, because he knows there’s no going back from this. There’s no returning to the friendship they had before. Richie has ruined him for anyone else.

Richie kisses him, and Eddie falls into it, letting Richie pull him across the seat and into his lap, licking into Richie’s mouth and trying his best to be good enough, to be a better person, a better partner, a better boyfriend. Eddie loves him, he loves him with everything he’s got. It’s not his fault his mom has never showed him any real affection, short of trying to heal all of his made-up illnesses. He’s never learned to be open with his feelings, but he can learn. He can learn for Richie.

“I love you,” he chokes out when Richie sucks a mark into his neck, and he clings to Richie’s shoulders, burying his face in Richie’s hair, inhaling the smell of smoke and shampoo that has becomes his greatest comfort.

And Richie groans, crushing Eddie against his chest as he kisses Eddie’s face, and his nose, and his brow, pushing his hair back to breathe heavily and look into his eyes. Richie’s glasses are slightly foggy, like the windows in the car, and the air is heavy and thick between them. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t say it if you don’t want to. You know I don’t-”

Eddie kisses him deeply, tangling his fingers in Richie’s hair, tugging it the way he knows Richie likes, and he pulls back slightly, breath huffing over Richie’s lips. He loves the dazed look in Richie’s eyes, and that he put that look there. “I love you,” he says firmly, and he presses a quick, chaste kiss to Richie’s parted lips. “You don’t even know how much.”

The smile that breaks out over Richie’s lips is worth any slight discomfort Eddie feels. “I know,” Richie replies, and Eddie knows Richie is okay with him being this way. It will take him time to learn to open up, but he’ll do anything to make Richie light up like this.

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Did you just Han Solo me?”

Richie throws his head back and laughs, and Eddie rests his head on Richie’s shoulder, muffling the giggles that he can’t control.

* * *

 

Richie loves Eddie with his entire being.

They haven’t been together very long, but that doesn’t matter- Richie has known for a long time that he’s completely in love with him, so when he finally plucked up the courage and kissed him, on a rainy night while they were sitting in his car, just listening to the radio and talking about nothing, he was already a goner.  

This is why he doesn’t take it personally when Eddie doesn’t say “I love you” back.  Richie is well aware that it’s really hard for him- and who can blame him?  It’s not like Mrs. K is the most affectionate woman, or mother, and even though Eddie has never outright said so, Richie can see, each time one of the losers, usually Bev or Ben, says those three important little words to him, he freezes up for a moment, huffs out a shy laugh, and says nothing in return.  

He thinks of this as he kisses Eddie’s chin, dragging his lips down and across his jaw, comfortably settled on top of him.  They are in Richie’s bedroom in the dark, bodies warm and growing warmer as their mouths come together again and again, hands grasping shoulders and fingers gripping hair.  This is how he says those words the most, scattered with the phrase itself.  “Eddie,” Richie breathes out against his neck, “Eds,” he murmurs, and Eddie must know the “I love you” isn’t too far behind, because he sighs and tightens his hands in Richie’s curls, gently tugging his head back to look him in the eyes.  

Eddie’s cheeks are flushed prettily, and he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.  “I missed you,” he says, quietly, and Richie feels the same way, because they have both been so damn busy.  It’s the night before graduation, and for weeks Eddie has been anxiously studying like crazy for his finals, while Richie has tried to keep him together, to keep him from tipping over the edge and breaking under all the pressure.  There’s been no time to just be together, and honestly, as incredibly stupid as it sounds, it feels like he can breathe again.  

“Pretty sure I missed you more,” Richie admits, and he feels stupid, exposed, in ways he’s never felt before.  Eddie knows everything about him, has seen him at his worst, and his loneliest, and his most irritable- he really shouldn’t be embarrassed to say something so honest- but he is.  

“Not possible,” Eddie says, and he pulls Richie down, and their foreheads are resting together.  “Can we… can we do something?” 

“Do what?”  

Eddie glances away nervously.  “Can we um, maybe we can,” he stops, frowns, then he’s shifting around, and Richie feels Eddie’s legs inch outward, until his thighs are framing Richie’s hips, and Richie’s body is cradled in the warmth seeping through Eddie’s soft shorts.  “Like this.”  

Richie holds still.  They haven’t done a whole lot past making out and a little bit of light grinding, and it’s mostly because Richie is scared to push Eddie further than he’s comfortable with.  “Really?” he has to ask, just to make sure, to get the go-ahead he needs, because he can feel his body getting on board with the idea.  

Eddie nods, and his hips lift and press against him.  “Yes,” he says, and that’s all Richie needs to hear.  He seals their mouths together, allowing the wave of affection he feels so deeply to wash over him.  His pulse starts to race, his heart trips over itself, and he slips his hand under Eddie’s tee, running his dry, rough palm over the soft flesh of his abdomen.  And Eddie is very soft here, and warm, and his stomach jerks slightly at the touch, his breath hitching as Richie scratches lightly over his ribs.  

There are no words to properly describe what Richie feels, how deeply he cares for this boy, his best friend since forever, who held his hand in the dark sewers when he discovered what true fear really is, who held him in his arms when nightmares destroyed any chance of sleep.  How is it possible to love someone so much?  Sometimes, when they are wrapped together like this, he thinks he might die from the sheer weight of everything in his chest, in his heart- there is nothing that can tear him away from Eddie.  Nothing that can make him love him any less, or cut him out of his life- he belongs to Eddie, only to Eddie.  Forever.  

Eddie is panting into his mouth, his thighs tightening around him, and Richie discovers something new- his body is yearning to be closer, to feel more, for skin and heat and he- he kisses Eddie harder, has to pull away to catch his breath- and as he stares down into Eddie’s eyes, he imagines their future.  A small house, maybe on the edge of another town, with two dogs and a cat, a library for Eddie to store all his books and Richie’s music in.  And the sun would set beautifully, and it’s light would fill the sitting room where they will build their life, where they will spend their evenings cuddled together, kissing and hugging and laughing- 

“Richie,” Eddie’s voice is thick, choked-off, and Richie moves with him, taking Eddie’s face between his palms as he presses kisses over his eyelids, then his temples, his cheeks, the line of his jaw as it falls open around a wonderful sound.  These moments are sacred between them, precious, and Richie wouldn’t trade them for anything.  He wouldn’t give this up for an endless supply of riches, or fame, or anything like it- no, no he could never.  Any life without Eddie simply isn’t worth living.  

His glasses slip, almost right off his nose, but he doesn’t bother to fix them- can’t stop as his body seeks out something incredible.  Eddie is trembling beneath him, his small, strong fingers holding on tight to the back of Richie’s shirt, the heat between his thighs wrapping Richie up, and pulling him closer, closer, and Richie meets every movement.  He’s got no idea what he’s doing, but it feels wonderful, fulfilling, and he willingly drowns in Eddie’s dark eyes. 

Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut, his head falling back, and around broken cries he gasps, “I love you!” tension breaking all through his frame, his knees knocking into Richie’s waist, wonderful noises falling from his parted lips that Richie wants to hear again, and for the rest of his life.  Richie falls over the edge, burying his face against Eddie’s throat, inhaling the clean, familiar scent of Eddie’s hair as his body releases.  And it’s amazing, and real, and he can’t help but crush their mouths together as he comes down from that spectacular high.  

“I love you,” Richie whispers into Eddie’s ear, nuzzling the shell and wrapping Eddie up in his arms.  “I love you so much.”  

Eddie smiles, bringing his hand up and close to Richie’s throat, and Richie feels the soft pads of his fingertips, pressing softly against his skin.  “You… you make happy,” he sighs, lifting up and fitting their lips together.  “So happy.”  

Richie’s heart almost explodes, and he allows Eddie to pull him down again, falling into Eddie’s warmth, Eddie’s love- Eddie’s soul.  “Me, too.  You make me… I’m so happy with you.”  

Richie replays Eddie’s words in his head through the night, falling asleep with his arm tight around Eddie’s waist.  

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill I forgot I wrote from a numbered prompt list:
> 
> 187.) Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?  
> 194.) Good boy. 
> 
> I have more sitting in my ask shhhh  
> I'll get to them one day hopefully.

It happens on a day that isn’t special in any way, but it becomes one of the most important days of Eddie’s life.  

See, this thing, this  _Eddie and Richie_ thing, has been building for so damn long that Eddie isn’t even sure when it all started to change from cute but terrifying, to ridiculous and painful.  In high school, after the clown and the nightmares and Bill and Bev moving away, Richie started drifting closer in every way a person can.  Afternoons sweating out at the arcade as Richie desperately tried to top his last score turned into evenings spent in Eddie’s room, shoulder to shoulder on the ground up against the side of the bed, talking or reading or musing over some movie Eddie slapped on for some background noise.  Nights studying together in Richie’s living room melted into even later nights out on the front porch together, looking up at the stars and spilling their deepest dreams and desires to only one another.  No one else.  Never.  

And it went on like this.  All the way through high school they were  _Eddie and Richie_ , a long arm thrown over narrow shoulders and a laugh echoed by a frustrated, but fond groan.  Eddie craved closer contact, his skin itching for more each time their fingers brushed or their bare thighs would end up pressed together in the heat of summer.  But he handled it all, turned his head when Richie arrived at school with a large hickey on the side of his throat and an apology as to why he ditched their movie night.  He pretended not to notice when Richie would sneak off at a party (that Richie had dragged him to in the first place) to go make out with some random girl they didn’t even know.   Eddie choked it all down, held his head up high and insisted that none of Richie’s antics bothered him, that none of the girlfriends made him seethe with anger and jealousy- he gritted his teeth and carried on.  And he did this, all the way to graduation, and even through these past couple years of college and their budding adult lives.    

But today, for a reason he isn’t sure about, he couldn’t keep it all in anymore.  Richie has a studio apartment he pays for with his two jobs, and Eddie practically lives out of the place himself.  It’s tiny and messy, but it always smells like dryer sheets and the lightly scented cologne Richie wears from time to time, and it’s a second home to the dorm Eddie hates to go back to most nights.  Richie is on the wood floor in front of the TV, up against the side of the bed as Eddie is spread out on top of it, elbows planted on the edge so he can watch what’s going on.  And it’s while Richie’s fingers are flying over the Guitar Hero controller, his face screwed up in concentration as the colors zoom by on the screen, that Eddie decides that enough is enough.  Maybe it’s because they’ve been falling asleep together lately, noses pressed into necks and legs tangled.  Or, maybe it’s because Richie thought to invite him along for the upcoming holidays when he heads home to see his parents, so that Eddie doesn’t have to be alone, like he has been for the past few years.  

Whatever it is, it’s  _strong_ , much stronger than everything else that’s happened between them over the years, and so Eddie leans in while Richie’s eyes are glued to the game, big and blue and focused, and he slowly drags his lips down over the long, pale side of Richie’s throat.  

Richie shivers and sucks in a quick breath, his attention shifting and zeroing in on Eddie, and Eddie almost shies away, his mouth opening and closing as the weight of what he’s done settles over his shoulders.  “I…” he starts to say, trailing off when Richie’s eyes fall closed and he breathes hard through his nose.  Shit.  He’s screwed up.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have-”

Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising, but when Richie’s hand comes up and his fingers tangle in Eddie’s thick tufts of hair, he goes with the movement, gasping when Richie pulls him in and slides their mouths together perfectly, deeply.  And Richie tastes like the sweet tarts he was chewing on earlier, his lips slightly dry but gentle, as they begin to move and pull wetly against his own.  

It’s a kiss like Eddie has never experienced before; there’s want and  _need_ and longing in every touch.  There’s longing in Richie’s breaths as he rises up off the floor and climbs on the bed, one knee sinking down on the mattress as his body hovers over Eddie’s, an air of uncertainty in his hesitant stance, until Eddie’s fingers curl into his shirt and pull him down, harder than he means to.  The room is comfortably warm, but Eddie’s skin is hot and alight with every brush of Richie’s palms, as they slip under his sweater and t shirt, over the sensitive flesh of his sides, drawing a whine from his throat as Richie smiles and adjusts his glasses, where they’ve slid down his nose.  They slide down again, but he doesn’t make a move to remove them, his grin a cheesy thing that makes Eddie suppress a giggle that threatens to bubble out of his throat.  

Richie’s weight is an unexpected comfort on top of him.  In his limited experiences with boys, he usually hates to be beneath them, feels trapped under all the doubt that rings in his ears and the nagging in the back of his mind, that tells him that he doesn’t know this or that guy- not well enough.  Certainly not to be so vulnerable under him.  But this is different; it’s  _Richie,_ and he knows he’s not in any kind of danger here.  He’s safe.

“Hey,” Richie murmurs, nosing along Eddie’s cheek and jaw, dropping kisses over his eyelids and the line of his nose, until their mouths are hovering inches from each other, their breath mixing and igniting something incredible in Eddie’s skin.  

“Hey,” Eddie replies shakily, his chest so full of everything he’s ever felt for this boy that he’s not sure he can contain it all.  He swallows thickly, blinking as he gazes up into Richie’s deep, endless eyes, the pit of his stomach swooping as his long awaited confession is pulled from him.  “I… I like you.”  

Richie’s eyes light up, his voice light and teasing but low with this secret moment, serious in a way that only he can be, and only Eddie can understand.  “Yeah?” he says, grinning when Eddie nods.  “I think I like you, too.”  

Eddie sucks in a breath when Richie’s hips press down against him, where they are steadily sinking between his thighs.  “You  _think_?”  His voice comes out high and desperate, his cheeks flushing when Richie chuckles and does it again.  

Richie’s elbows are planted on either side of Eddie’s head, caging him in completely, but Eddie’s fingers are tightly locked in the fabric of Richie’s shirt, over his back, holding on as their lower bodies begin to move together.  “Okay, I don’t  _think_ ,” Richie says, lowering his mouth to speak huskily in Eddie’s ear, the warmth of him tickling Eddie’s skin.  “I like you  _so_  much, Eds.  Always have…”

A relieved laugh spills from Eddie’s lips, followed immediately by a gasp when Richie rocks down hard against him.  His legs inch outwards, creating the perfect cradle for Richie to settle between them, and then he’s quickly losing his breath as Richie’s lips trail down over his chin, pressing up and under his jaw, teeth scraping over his throat as Richie breathes heavily against the sensitive hollow.  His sweater is in the way, sweat starting to gather at the small of his back, and Richie pulls away for a moment to roll it up, over Eddie’s head and off his raised arms.  He chucks it off the bed and moves in again immediately, pushing Eddie down into the covers and pressing a heated kiss to his waiting lips.  

Eddie is panting openly, fingers sneaking under the hem of Richie’s shirt to grasp needfully at bare skin.   _God_ \- Richie’s body feels incredible against him, a weight that breeds heat between his legs, makes his cock swell and rise, reaching to meet and rub against Richie’s.  And the friction- f _uck_ \- the friction is  _so_ good.  It’s nothing Eddie hasn’t done before, but with Richie?  It’s almost too much.  Too much raw emotion filling and pooling low, low just above his pelvis, where that strictly Richie feeling tugs and aches and  _wants_ more than anything.  

“ _Richie_.” Eddie’s voice comes out strained, embarrassingly so, his hips jumping with every rut down against him, the tell-tale twitch starting in his thighs that signals that he’s close to coming.  “Rich, please.  I’m- I’m gonna-”

“Already?” Richie breathes out, brow arching as he grins in delighted disbelief. “Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Eddie closes them instead and groans.  “Don’t you dare fucking laugh at me!”

Richie lowers his head again, brushes a sweet, chaste kiss over Eddie’s parted lips.  “I’m just teasing.  But do you think you can hang on?” He noses at Eddie’s temple, making Eddie squirm as his long, bony fingers run over Eddie’s sides.  “I can make it better if you do.”

Eddie’s head falls back around a moan, his body rolling up as he gasps out, “ _Yes_ ,” and digs his nails into the skin at the base of Richie’s spine.  “Yeah- yeah, I can.”  

Breathless, Richie detaches from the kiss for a moment, nips at Eddie’s lobe as he whispers in his ear.  “Can I touch you?”  

Nodding quickly, Eddie takes Richie’s hand and shoves down toward the waist of his sweats, letting out a relieved breath when Richie’s fingers sneak inside.  Eddie lifts his hips when Richie’s entire palm cups him through his underwear, his breath coming in short, quick gasps each time Richie sucks a kiss against his neck and drags his nails lightly over his covered cock.  His mouth falls open, Richie’s name spilling out as he grasps at Richie’s arm and urges him to please,  _please_ touch him.   _Please_ make him feel good.  “Please, Rich…”

And Richie, thank god, doesn’t tease him for much longer.  Fingers dip into his damp briefs, his hips rising as Richie’s hand closes tightly around his cock, beginning an evenly paced stroke that sets a rhythm for Eddie’s body to follow easily.  It’s dry, mostly, the come leaking from him doing little to slick the way, but it’s also perfect, and he doesn’t want to stop this for anything.  Not to remove his sweats that are starting to irritate his skin, or to pull Richie’s shirt off as he’s so desperate to do.  No- Richie’s hand moving up and down the most intimate part of him is something he can’t take for granted.  He’s wanted this for too long.  

It doesn’t take long for him to start moaning brokenly, staring up into Richie’s lidded eyes, still behind his glasses, taking his bottom lip between his teeth when the noises threaten to overwhelm him.  The tension low in his stomach tugs, gathers tightly at the base of his spine, his thighs shaking and his heart beating wildly, and his fingers seek something to hold on to, one fist clenched in the sheets and the other clinging to Richie’s shoulder as his right leg lifts and curls around Richie’s waist with a mind of his own, seeking a closeness that would pull their lower bodies flush together.  He’s still a virgin, but he’d let Richie take him right now if that’s what Richie wants, lock his ankles behind Richie’s back and cling to him as his cock fills him and soothes the ache in his body.  Yeah- that sounds amazing, actually.  He buries his face against Richie’s shoulder, his hips juddering as he listens to Richie’s heavy breaths and the little choked-off sounds in his throat.  

“ _Yeah_ ,” Eddie groans, as Richie’s hand speeds up, his grip comfortably tight as his thumb rubs circles over the head, pressing lightly up against the underside as Richie bites gently at Eddie’s jaw.  “Yeah- yeah-  _Richie_ -”

He comes with Richie’s lips barely touching his own, eyes squeezing shut as his head falls back and he cries out into the room.  It’s a slow come down, with his skin still searing with the touch of Richie’s and his mind stuck on  _holy shit this is actually happening._ Slowly, he peels his eyes open, blinking a few times as Richie’s hips nudge the front of his thigh, his deep eyes lowering to stare down at the space between their bodies.

Richie’s jeans are unzipped, underwear shoved out of the way, and his cock is hanging out in the open, with the same hand he used on Eddie now stripping over the length at a slow, mildly satisfying pace.  He’s still hovering over Eddie, so Eddie shifts and places a shaking hand on Richie’s chest, and presses him down until he falls on his side and they are facing each other.  

“Can I watch?” Eddie asks, his fingers trailing down over Richie’s shirt, nails catching on the crumbling C at the end of Metallica stretched across the front.  Richie nods he leans in and speaks low in Richie’s ear, thumbing at his exposed hipbone as he says, “Rich- I like this.”  

A breathy laugh falls past Richie’s lips, and he blinks a few times, eyes focusing on Eddie’s as his hand starts to move faster.  “Oh yeah?” he says, gasping when Eddie scratches at the skin over his hip.  “Fuck, Eddie.”  

Eddie isn’t sure where it comes from, but as he glances down again, his eyes taking in the red flush flooding the head, he can’t help but think that it’s a gorgeous sight.  “Yeah,” he admits, kissing Richie’s cheek lightly as he goes on.  “It’s so pretty and hard.  I… I think I want to  _taste_ it.”

The effect is immediate; Richie groans and his hips thrust forward, his free hand reaching out and seizing a handful of Eddie’s shirt to pull him even closer.  “Not unless you’re sure,” he manages to say, voice strained as his eyes start to close, his chest rising and falling rapidly.  “Eddie.  Eddie-”

Though Eddie has already come, he can feel his body fighting to get hard again, lust filling him rapidly as he watches Richie’s brows furrow and sweat bead over his hairline in fascination.  He can’t even believe he’s saying these things.  “I wanna feel you,” he moans, and Richie grunts loudly, hips fucking into the circle of his own hand.  “You’re so good to me, Richie.  All the time.  Such a  _good boy_.”

“ _Eddie_ ,” Richie whines, turning and hiding his face against Eddie’s sweaty throat.  “ _Goddamn_.”  

“I want you,” Eddie goes on, palms spread low on Richie’s back, cradling him to his chest as Richie continues to jerk himself, going faster with every word Eddie utters.  “Wanna feel all of you- wanna feel you inside.  I know you’ll take care of me, make me feel  _so_ good.  Just like you always have-”

Richie moves up suddenly, bringing their mouths together in a kiss that’s all wet breath and teeth, a loud, low groan rumbling through him as he spills all over his own hand and Eddie’s lower stomach, where his shirt has ridden up.  He holds Richie through it, kissing him slow and deep, lifting his left hand and carding his fingers through the back of Richie’s sweaty curls.  It seems to last forever, the two of them panting and clinging to each other, and Eddie preens when Richie nuzzles into the underside of his jaw, a sweet, unexpected gesture that tugs on the strings of affection hanging freely from his heart.  

The Guitar Hero menu is shifting in Eddie’s periphery vision, the intro to “Paint it Black” playing as Richie pushes himself up on his elbow and smiles down at Eddie, fond and full.  “Took you long enough,” he says, but the shine in his eyes tells Eddie he’s not being serious.

“Oh, sorry.  I didn’t realize  _I_ was supposed to make the first move.”  

“Damn straight,” Richie says proudly, puffing his chest out slightly.  “I expect to be  _pursued_.  I don’t do the chasing.  What kind of guy do you take me for-”

Eddie’s fingers sneak into Richie’s hair once again, seizing a handful of the dark locks and tugging him down.  A moan escapes Richie’s open mouth as he goes with the movement, immediately crushing their mouths together and sliding between Eddie’s legs again.  The kiss lasts and lasts, then slows until they are both out of breath and are forced to pull apart, yet even then their lips remain touching, their eyes locked together.  

Eddie is the first to whisper, “ _Wow_ ,” as Richie chuckles and noses at his cheek.  “You liked that?”  

Richie snorts and pulls Eddie in, wrapping his arms around his back as he kisses his hair.  “I like a lot of things.”  

Humming, Eddie lowers his head to rest against Richie’s chest, his eyes growing heavy as sleep begins to overcome him.  “We should get cleaned up,” he says, but he’s already fallen half asleep, smiling as the warmth of Richie’s body shifts and they slot together perfectly.  

“I’ll take care of it,” Eddie hears Richie whisper in his ear, and he nods absently as Richie untangles himself and leaves the bed, the mattress rising slightly.  

Eddie watches him for a moment, standing at the counter in the tiny kitchenette, and as his brain begins to slow he feels the shift settle in their relationship- from  _Eddie and Richie_ to  _EddieandRichie._ It’s a new beginning, one that brings a sappy smile to his face even as his eyes fall closed.  

Eddie falls asleep completely before Richie returns, warm and safe and comfortable, with his arms curled around the pillows and his legs tangled in the soft sheets.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uwuuussss  
> spacing might be weird sorry  
> also i didn't edit this  
> sorryyyyy >.<


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ask sent to me: Write an intense orgasm

Eddie’s breathing hard, fast, cheek flat against the sheets, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut as Richie slides his cock steadily into him. Each thrust rocks his hips forward, rocks the mattress beneath him, fingers tightening over the edge of the bed as he moans and pushes his hips back.

They’ve been going at it for a while, the shape of Richie’s fingertips leaving bruises over his skin, where Richie has been holding on to him with each position they’ve switched to. First, Eddie sunk down onto Richie’s cock, rocked their bodies together with his palms braced on Richie’s chest. Then, Richie rolled him on his back, pressed his knees into his chest and fucked into him hard and deep, groaning and chanting Eddie’s name endlessly.

And now they are like this, and Eddie’s whole body is trembling, the head of Richie’s cock slamming into that wonderful little spot inside him repeatedly. Sweat runs down his thighs, down his spine, and as he turns to glance over his shoulder, he sees Richie’s head tipped back, mouth open as he grunts and continues to fuck him into an incoherent mess.

“Rich…” Eddie moans, back arching as Richie moves faster, harder. “ _Richie_.”

Richie doesn’t say anything, just uses his palms to press Eddie down on his stomach, then holds himself up on his arms, caging Eddie in entirely. Then he moves, pounds into Eddie’s body, bends down to kiss over Eddie’s bare shoulders, scraping his teeth over where neck and shoulder meet. “Fuck, Eds,” Richie whines, increasing the force and speed of his thrusts, the bed creaking as Eddie pants openly. “ _Shit_ -” 

And Eddie cries out, his stomach tightening and thighs tensing, shaking, pleasure coiling low in his pelvis. His hips start to jump, his aching cock trapped and inaccessible between his body and the sheets- and the sounds coming from him- loud and high and desperate, rumbling in his chest as Richie’s lips suck a mark into the side of his neck- “ _Ohgodohgodohgod_ -” Eddie chants, toes curling and feet arching, hands scrabbling to hold on to anything. “Yes yes yes yes yes-”

“I’m close,” Richie breathes in his ear, biting the shell as he grinds hard into him. “So close, Eds. You feel so fucking good.”

“Deeper,” Eddie begs, clenching and gasping and reaching back to take hold of some part of Richie, something to anchor his body as he gets closer.  His fingers grasp at Richie’s arm, then higher, tangling in his hair as he bares the side of his neck to Richie’s teeth. “C-close.   _Please_.”  

Richie obliges, knees planting beside Eddie’s hips as he ruts hard, deep, hand finding a way to wedge between the bed and Eddie’s body to take Eddie’s cock in hand.  “You wanna come?”  He teases, kisses Eddie’s jaw and nips at the hinge.  “Wanna come on my cock?” 

“Richie-” before Eddie can get the rest out, Richie’s palm closes around him and jerks him fast, skin slick with sweat and lube, and he keens high in the back of his throat, words choked off as his body goes taut.  It’s so good, so unbelievably good, Richie’s hand and his cock.  Too much.  “ _Oh f-fuckfuck-_ ”

Then Richie pulls his head back and covers his mouth in a messy, wet, open mouth kiss, and Eddie’s chest fills with butterflies, the tight coil in his stomach breaks, and he  _comes_.  His mind goes fuzzy, back arching uncontrollably, a long whine escaping him that Richie smothers.  His fingers tighten in Richie’s hair, ass clenching hard, legs and arms trembling as he loses himself to the bliss running through his muscles and skin.  

Eddie opens his eyes as he comes down, meeting Richie’s heavy, hooded gaze, and he smiles, collapses on his chest and hums low, satisfied in a bone deep way he hasn’t been for a long time.  Richie pulls out of him, falls to the side and pulls the condom off, then works his hand over himself, where he’s still red and hard and aching.  Eddie watches, folds his arm under his head, reaches out with one hand to trail his nails through the beautiful line of hair under Richie’s navel.  

“Look so good, babe,” Eddie murmurs, biting his lip when Richie grunts and thrusts into his the circle of his fist.  “So good.  I want you in me again.”  

“ _Goddamn.  Eddie-_ ” Richie gasps, his stomach tensing, and then Eddie watches in amazement as Richie spills, blue eyes squeezed shut and mouth open, a choked off groan rumbling in his chest, under Eddie’s hand, where he’s now playing with the hair scattered across his pecs.  

Richie’s arm gives out and he falls, face now inches from Eddie’s, and they stare at each other, panting, smiling in their secret  _EddieandRichie_ way.  Eddie reaches out, pushes the loose strands of hair out of Richie’s eyes, drags his fingers down his cheek, jaw, touches the swell of his bottom lip gently.  

“Did you call me ‘babe’?”  Richie asks suddenly, voice low and deep, brows pushed together, questioning.

Eddie looks away, at the space between them, and he tells his heart to calm down.  To stop living in a world where they are anything other than friends.  “I… I did.  Sorry.”  

Silence.  Then Richie shifts, closer, and he his long arms wrap around Eddie’s shoulders, pull him close and hold him tight.  “Eddie, my love, my dumb little munchkin.” 

Eddie bristles, makes to pull away.  “Don’t call me a fucking munchkin, you fuck-” 

“I love you.”  

Eddie stops, eyes wide and heart racing.  “You… what?”  

Rolling his eyes, Richie pulls Eddie closer, tucks his face against Eddie’s neck and sighs.  “Lets talk later.  I love you.  The end.  Lets sleep now.”  

Though he wants to talk  _right fucking now_ , Eddie loosens up and sinks into the embrace, and leaves the mess of feelings for later.  He kisses Richie’s cheek, grumbles, “Fuck you, ‘m not a munchkin,” and smiles when Richie chuckles against his skin.  


End file.
